


**TEASER** Hide from The Sky (The Ocean won't Judge)

by PageofD



Series: Welcome To Rapture (WTNV Bioshock AU) [2]
Category: BioShock, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Just a teaser of a bigger fic to come, Little Sisters, Look this is kinda dark, M/M, Mentions of Death, and mutilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 01:45:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8268077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PageofD/pseuds/PageofD
Summary: They met at one of Andrew Ryan’s dinner parties. Cecil likes to call it ‘fate’ and ‘love at first sight’ while Carlos, the more pragmatic of the pair, likes to call it ‘luck’ and ‘you looked incredible in the moonlight, with that little sister holding your hand’. --The teaser piece for a Bioshock au no one asked for but they will get regardless.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This scene will appear in the final fic, but as a reworked and altered scene.  
> Honestly I didn't know how to tag this so if you come up with something I should tag please let me know.  
> Any and all feedback is appreciated, especially as I am still working on the main part of the story.
> 
> In regards to 'Maybe it's not so bad', that fic is going on full hiatus until I can access my old hard-drive and get the latest chapter (the most recently posted one) out of my way and into the word doc I have all the chapters in. Until I can do that I will be working on this bioshock au.  
> So yeah.  
> Any questions? Comment here or ask me on [Tumblr.](www.lonelyboyinthelab.tumblr.com)

They met at one of Andrew Ryan’s dinner parties. Cecil likes to call it ‘fate’ and ‘love at first sight’ while Carlos, the more pragmatic of the pair, likes to call it ‘luck’ and ‘you looked incredible in the moonlight, with that little sister holding your hand’. Either way, they both agree that that moment was a defining one in their relationship.

Carlos was only at the party because his supervisor, one Doctor Sylvia Kayali, had wanted to introduce him to Ryan’s _favourite_ scientist, Doctor Suchong. Apparently, Carlos’ long history and deep interest in human experimentation made him a perfect candidate for working on the Big Daddy project, one of the worst-kept secrets in Rapture.

Cecil was at the party mostly just to be seen. He was constantly approached by parents who just _had_ to tell him how _much_ their children loved his stories, and who then stuck around to coo over the Little Sister he was looking after for the night, one of the earliest prototypes.

Carlos was taking a break from the main festivities to look out one of the windows and sip some too-young Arcadia wine, frustrated and tired from kissing up to Suchong all evening, when Cecil, also looking to take a break, found him. The writer’s presence was precluded by a stuttered step, a soft gasp and a child humming a nursery rhyme to herself.

Carlos turned slowly, fingering the pocket he’d made in his lab coat sleeve where he had a scalpel tucked away, ready for action should he need it to punish whoever was interrupting him, regardless of what it would do to his social standing.

“If you are not here to refill my glass-” Carlos started, voice low and threatening only to peter out as he took in the sight before him.

The man stood in front of him was neither tall nor short compared to average, but stood a few inches taller than Carlos. He was neither thin nor fat, but wearing clothes that would make him seem slimmer, all pinstripes and dark hues. His hair was not long or short, the ends curling outwards from where it was tied back with a ribbon. Carlos gasped as he took in the man’s face, dappled as it was in the moon-lit patterns of water this far from the main party lights. His eyes were intense and wide, his nose sharp and cheekbones standing out as a flush rose beneath them. The man’s lower lip was drawn into his mouth, perfect white teeth digging into the plump flesh in a way that made Carlos want to step in and dig his own teeth into the skin. A slim-fingered, trembling hand was raised to run over the man's pulled-back hair as Carlos watched, the scientist’s body trembling with a desire to tear apart this man of contradictions, to cut into his flesh and find out how he was not tall or short, not thin or fat, not sharp-boned nor round-cheeked.

“Look Mr C.” A soft, multi-toned voice drew Carlos’ attention lower, to a little girl standing by the man’s side, pale faced and dirty clothed, a Little Sister. “He’s an Angel.” The Little Sister muttered, pointing at Carlos and rocking on her heels gently.

“He certainly is, Josie.” The man muttered, rich baritone almost lost to the background noise of the party.

“Who are, uh.” Carlos paused and cleared his throat, sipped at his wine, tucked a lock of prematurely grey hair behind his ear and ran a soothing finger down the handle of his hidden scalpel before trying again. “Who are you, and why are you disrupting me?” Carlos asked, pitching his voice low and stepping forward intimidatingly.

The man startled, almost as if he was in a trance, and tripped over himself trying to answer.

“Oh, sorry, gosh you're just so- But I'm getting ahead of myself- oh I'm making a mess of this-” He babbled, running a hand over his hair again before going to tuck both hands into his pockets and forgetting about the Little Sister holding onto his left hand until she made a slightly pained sound of protest prompting him to jump into an apology.

“I'm sorry, I've made a fool of myself.” The man said, pausing to straighten his jacket and clear his throat. “I'm Cecil Palmer. I'm a writer.” He said, holding a hand out to shake and stepping towards Carlos, who promptly popped his scalpel out of its hiding spot and discreetly into the palm of his hand.

“I'm Doctor Carlos Ramirez. I'm a… scientist. Please forgive me if I don't shake your hand, last week Rochelle was killed via contact poison by an intern who wanted her job.” Carlos said, waiting for Cecil to withdraw his hand before sliding his scalpel away again.

“Oh, of course Doctor Ramirez. I understand.” Cecil said, nodding seriously. “This is Josie.” He added, placing a protective hand between the Little Sister’s shoulder blades. “She’s one of the early prototype Little Sisters. She doesn't bond correctly with any Big Daddies, so she doesn't get out much, but Tenenbaum wanted to let her out tonight so I've been entrusted with her care.” Cecil explained, preening just slightly at playing Big Daddy for the night.

“Of course. Makes sense.” Carlos muttered, cupping his chin in thought. “But, no offence, how do you know all that? You're just a writer.”

“Just a writer? Ha!” Cecil laughed, waving a dismissive hand at Carlos. “I’m Ryan’s best writer, aside from himself. I wrote all those Big Daddy/Little Sister stories, the ones that make the whole thing appealing to kids you know?” Cecil explained, tucking his free hand into his pocket.

Of course, now Cecil has mentioned them, Carlos knows exactly what books he's talking about. Carlos had never picked one up, or looked at it beyond the cover, but he had definitely seen them everywhere.

“Oh. So you get a lot of inside knowledge about the whole… process?” Carlos asked, waving vaguely at the Little Sister and thirsting for knowledge.

“Only what I need to know to make a good story.” Cecil said with a conspiratorial wink. “The best fiction is based on fact.” He continued, twirling his fingers through the air like he was doing a magic trick. “The ‘fact’ part is what got me banned up there, and welcomed _down here_.” Cecil intoned, voice dropping as he took as step closer to Carlos, stepping into the scientist’s breathing room. “On the surface, did you ever hear of an author by the name of Kevin Bluffs?” Cecil asked, breath trailing along Carlos’ neck and making the scientist shudder, not unpleasantly.

Carlos swallowed loudly as his mind raced, recalling dark nights filled with darker stories. Blank-covered books that held tales of the occult, of blood orgies to summon demons, of scientists and writers alike who summoned Elder Gods in the search of more knowledge, of men who were not men, who seduced and fed and raped with no rhyme or reason other than they could. And more than that, as Carlos nodded and felt his cheeks flushed with shame, Carlos remembered the many nights he had read of people being ripped apart by their own greed and hubris given physical form, all while he was laid in bed pleasuring himself with his free hand.

“I may have.” Carlos answered, voice thick and low, making Cecil shudder against him. “What of him?”

Cecil gave a low chuckle and pulled away from Carlos, giving the scientist a smirk and a heated wink.

“That name is one of the many pen names I used to try and get published.” Cecil explained, his eyes bright with mirth and something else, something dark and hungry.

Carlos watched as Cecil pulled a business card out of his pocket, made of thick purple card, and dropped it into one of the pockets of Carlos’ lab coat before he turned and walked away, Little Sister beside him as his hips swayed alluringly.

“I'll see you around, Doctor Ramirez.” Cecil called back, grinning as Carlos shuddered and leaned back against the thick glass window.

**Author's Note:**

> So it has occurred to me (in the like 20 mins since posting this)  
> That I don't think Tenenbaum or Suchong actually worked for Ryan. Also I don't think the Big Daddy/Little Sister project was Ryan's. I think they all belong to Fontaine.  
> So yknow that's at the top of my list of things to double check.


End file.
